Beauty is the painting of paths

That men had never walked or seen

Like the pebbles which count not their existence

Beauty walks through the ranges and fjords

With shadows of pines and winter trees all about

And tree logs sailing quietly on the lonely waterway

Beauty is the art of tranquility

It is peace that comes with quietness,

The sands that lay on beaches stretched far away

Quietly for years, unperturbed, sitting on one another

With backgrounds of green tropical forests and rocks

And a wide variety of flora and fauna

Beauty is painting of the sea

Some are black, some light blue

Some a mild red and a patch of cream

But the hues match with that of the skies

So that the canoes look like middlemen

Caught in-between the clouds and sea

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